When I was 20 years old, I became pregnant. I put that baby girl up for adoption when she was born. It was the best of all options, it seemed. My parents were not willing to help me. The father was not interested in a relationship. At the time, I was direction-less, working as a cashier and taking community college classes in things like astronomy, art history and architectural drafting. I was having sex with Joe because my life sucked, and I was young & horny. I would probably have told him no if I wasn't so desperately lonely.
I came to believe, over the years, that adoption was the best option when a young, unprepared woman gets pregnant. I convinced myself that it's win-win-win, no one gets hurt, everyone lives happily ever after. It was not until this past year - twenty-two years later - that I've realized the denial I've been in. I mean really, *nobody gets hurt*?! That's what I thought of myself, I guess - "a nobody". I cried for a month after she was born. I still cry about it. I went away to college, two hours south of "home". I stopped thinking of my parents' house as home and tried to get on with life. I made new friends, but I was even lonelier.
It occurred to me today that when I was a young adult, I thought in order to be a good parent I'd have to *know* something, but I didn't know what it was that I'd need to know. All around me, the parenting I observed was completely authoritarian. I knew of nothing else. But I also knew I couldn't do *that*. Something else I knew was that I didn't have my act together, and I hoped I would by the time I had a family.
Well, I don't think I've got much figured out, but I have learned that I don't need to. All I need to do is love my daughter. Why didn't somebody tell me that? Why didn't I just know?
Here's some irony: Clare was born just a week after my first daughter's 17th birthday. There's 17 yrs, 7 days, and about 7 hours between them, and they were both born on Wednesdays.
5 comments:
wow, Teresa. What a story.
I'm sorry that for so many years you carried that pain. I'll bet everyone around you also believed the lie that nobody gets hurt when a baby is given up.
I can absolutely say you are SOMEBODY!
I also became pregnant at 20. I chose abortion instead, at my mother’s insistence. Another of those options where some will tell you no one gets hurt. 16 mos later, I was pregnant again -- only this time I'd married the guy and we had the baby. I didn't tell my Mom until I was several months along.
Six months later, I was a single Mom. At 22. With no child support, and no more direction in my messy life. By then, my Mom was more supportive.
I'm sorry you didn't have more support for 20yo Teresa. She was somebody, too.
Love ya,
Syl
Sylvia, when I met you I thought about the fact that we'd both had our first kids around the same time, in the same neck of the woods. Life's a trip that way.
T
actually, Will was born here -- my Mom was in Va, so he was mostly raised there
A big, hug for ya today. Sorscha says that this world is hard to be in. I'd say she's right and I often wish for a utopia of no pain, no secrets and simply laughter. Ahhhh, to go home one day.
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